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“That all sounds doable.” As long as Avery doesn’t give me shit for wanting a day off here and there to spend with Jackson. I imagine I’ll get some pushback, but again, this could be an opportunity to get Avery to finally agree to hiring on some extra help. And with the new sponsorship and potential new clients, it’s likely going to have to happen sooner than later. Not to mention the kitchen expansion seems to be more necessary than ever.

“I think so. I’m aware of the challenges that come with long- distance relationships, and that this solution isn’t permanent, but I’m hoping for now, we try this? I want you to be honest if you’re finding it at all difficult, or if it’s not working for you, and I, of course, will do the same.”

“I can do that.” I exhale a sigh of relief.

“Good.” He kisses my knuckles again. “Now about the charity event in New York. I would love it if you would submit one of your creations for the auction.”

I give him a look. “Seriously, Jackson? As if I’m going to put one of my Etsy trinkets up against sculptures donated by some of the most sought-after artists in the country.”

“Last year Cosy submitted one of Griffin’s high school art projects and someone bought it for fifty thousand dollars.”

“That must have been some high school art project.”

“It was supposed to be a sculpture of a flower, but it ended up looking a lot like female anatomy. We’ve had everything from specialty cakes, to trips to Bora Bora, and anything in between. One of your pieces would be a wonderful contribution and another way for you to gain more recognition, not just for Spark House but for the things you’re passionate about as well.”

His arguments are valid, even if the idea makes my stomach feel like it’s trying out for the circus with all the flipping it’s doing. “Okay. I’ll submit something. When do you need it by?”

“In a few weeks?”

“That should give me plenty of time.”

“Excellent. If you need more time, just let me know. I’ll plan to pick it up at least a few days before the event.”

“I can just bring whatever it is with me, if I can manage to make the event, that is.”

“It’s an excuse for me to come see you, and I’m more than happy to talk to your sisters and convince them that you attending the charity event in New York will only do good things for Spark House.”

“I think they might see through you, considering what they walked in on last night.”

“Hmm. You do make a good point. Still, if you run into issues convincing them, know that I’m here to help.”

The server brings our appetizers, putting an end to that conversation, at least for now.

Two hours later, we’re back in the car, heading for Jackson’s house. We were chauffeured to the restaurant, which means the moment we’re in the back seat and the divider whirs closed, our lips are locked. We take a short break when we arrive at Jackson’s. I can’t look the driver in the eye as Jackson helps me out of the back seat. I also stumble a step or two because my legs are wobbly, thanks to Jackson’s wandering and very adept fingers.

The moment he closes and locks the door, we’re back at it. My dress ends up in a heap on the floor in the foyer, Jackson’s clothes make a path to the living room. One of his buttons rolls under the couch in my zeal to get him out of his shirt.

This time, we don’t make it back to the bedroom. Instead, I end up bent over the back of the couch, as I suggested earlier. I can see our reflections in the mirrored glass, and I watch him, completely enthralled and very aware that I’m falling for this man, and fast.

18

DON’T RAIN ON MY BONFIRE

JACKSON

“Why the hell are you smiling? I just wiped the floor with your ass twice in a row.” Trent swipes a towel across his forehead to mop up the sweat.

I’m not a big squash player, but every once in a while, I need to change things up, and Trent loves to kick my ass at the game, so I let him, since it’s usually me kicking his ass at most other sports.

“I just confirmed my date for the charity auction.” I set my phone down and use the towel draped around my shoulders to wipe the sweat dripping down my temple.

“Your date? Aren’t you going with Selene?”

“Why would I do that? I’m taking London.”

He arches his brow. “Does Selene know you’re taking London?”

“I’ll probably tell her the next time I talk to her.”

“You should do it soon, since that event is coming up, and Selene won’t appreciate being left in the lurch.” He shoulders his way out the door of the squash court. “You two always show up together. Officially or unofficially, you’re typically each other’s plus-one when there’s a charity auction. Apart from Colorado, anyway.”

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